Always a Coffee Shop
by CharleK
Summary: Blaine Anderson is at the prime of his swimming career. During his stint in the Lonon Olympic games, he meets the owner of a small coffee shop called The Espresso Room. Inspired by Klaine AU Fridays.
1. The Espresso Room

**{A/N: Hello! I did this for Klaine AU Friday a week ago, and it turned into a little ficlet. Enjoy!}**

* * *

"And they're coming in. This is the fourth and final lap of the 200 meter butterfly. Anderson has been squarely in the lead since the second lap, but now it looks as if he may be slowing down. Smythe is on his tail, and gaining some ground."

The thundering cheers from the audience grew in volume as the two competitors left the rest of the competition far behind. Both Blaine Anderson and Sebastian Smythe came from the USA, so there was little question as to which country would end up with bragging rights in this event. Blaine was going for his first gold. Sebastian, however, had competed in Beijing four years ago. This was the first time Blaine had ever been in front of a crowd this large, with expectations piled so high.

* * *

Earlier that morning, Blaine had left Olympic Village in search of a small coffee shop to calm his nerves. Blaine's coach had strictly prohibited caffeine of any sort, but he still enjoyed sitting in the cozy cafes. The sounds of people filtering in and out and the sweet scent of coffee reminded him of his home back in Ohio.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he came across a quaint shop that was nearly hidden behind the stores surrounding it. It seemed fairly busy, but somehow quieter than the rest of the city. London was constantly bustling with the activity that came with the Olympics, and Blaine was thankful for a place that was separate from that.

The front was constructed out of old, fading bricks, and the door was phone-booth red. Above it was a simple black sign with gold lettering that read "The Espresso Room."

_Perfect_ Blaine thought to himself as he opened the door. Inside, the atmosphere was even better than expected. To the side was the counter, where the barista was busying himself with another customer's order. In one corner, a couple sat in a booth giving each other doe eyes. A few tables down from them was a woman typing furiously on her laptop. The light brown walls and neutral toned furniture just made the room feel so…_warm._

Blaine stepped up to the counter. He figured he should order _something_ if he was going to sit there for a while.

"I'll be with you in a second," said the man behind the counter. His voice was a few pitches higher than he would have expected, but it was lovely and melodic and oh-so British. Blaine hadn't thought he had a thing for accents, but that was before he'd arrived in London.

A minute later, the man had finished putting together someone else's order and called out: "Grande Caramel Frappe."

The customer picked up his order distractedly and retreated to a table on the opposite side of the room. The barista then turned to Blaine.

"What can I get for you today, sir?" He flashed a pleasant smile at Blaine.

Blaine gaped a little. This man had a gorgeous voice, but his face was even more exquisite. His skin was flawlessly smooth, and didn't look much different in color from the clear jug of cream he could see behind the counter. His jaw was clearly defined and his eyes were a striking shade of blue.

"I—uh, just a medium decaf tea please." He mumbled. Blaine tried to avoid eye contact and hoped the server wouldn't see the flush that had shown up on his face.

"Absolutely! Anything else I can get you? I would recommend the scones. I just finished them half an hour ago."

"Um, Yeah. Sure."

"Excellent, that will be 4 pounds."

Blaine handed over the money and watched as the man behind the counter quickly wrapped up the scone and poured hot tea into a container. In no time at all, the barista handed Blaine his order. Never once did the small smile fall from the pale man's lips.

"You know, I wouldn't have taken you for a decaf tea kind of person, Mr…" said the man.

"Blaine, just Blaine." He chuckled somewhat nervously "I'm not. I'm partial to a good medium drip."

"Mmm…" the server replied. He appeared as if he was storing away the information for later, or maybe he was just one of the thoughtful types. "So why the tea?"

"Well," Blaine began, "I'm actually swimming for team USA in the Olympics today. It's my first race and my trainer doesn't allow caffeine or coffee of any type."

"Ahh. Well, you should come back afterwards so you can try our coffee. It's the best in the city, I can guarantee that." At that point, the man had leaned forward on the counter and placed his hand under his chin. To Blaine, he looked simply adorable

"I'll make sure to do that—"

"Kurt, Kurt Hummel." He extended a hand, and Blaine took it immediately. After a moment longer than necessary, they dropped hands and Blaine nodded slightly. He then made his way to the other side of the shop and sat down in a soft chair. Every now and then Blaine would glance back at the slim figure behind the counter, paying close attention to the perfectly coiffed hair and surprisingly toned arms. A couple times he thought he caught Kurt staring back, but he wasn't quite sure.

* * *

"I'm not sure if he's going to make it—Smythe is closing in. What a shame too, this would have been Anderson's first gold—"

"Hold on there, no need to jump to conclusions," a second announcer cut in. "He's pushing though, and it's going to be a close one."

In the stadium, the entire US swim team was hollering. The general audience seemed to only get louder as the seconds ticked down. A few rows above the team, Cooper Anderson could be seen enthusiastically calling his brother's name.

Sebastian and Blaine were head to head. Each stroke counted. With a final push, the two hit the wall at nearly the same moment. The crowd hitched as all eyes turned to the scoreboard to see who had hit the touch pad first.

In a coffee shop just a few minutes down the road, Kurt Hummel smiled as he saw the results of the event on a small television screen in the room.

Blaine Anderson- 1st Place.

* * *

**A/N: Yes the Espresso Room is a real place, but no, it does not look like how I described it. I loved the name but not the look so I took a few liberties. Also the whole no caffeine/ coffee thing is something that **_**my**_**swim coach gets on us about, so I assume that carries on to Olympic athletes. I will do a part 2 if people request it. **


	2. The Second Time

Blaine turned hesitantly towards the scoreboard, afraid of what he might see. Once he saw the bold number 1 next to his name, his face broke into a wide grin. He punched the air with his fist and used his remaining energy to jump up in the water before falling back down with a splash.

After giving himself a moment for excitement, he turned to the swimmers next to him to congratulate them on their effort. The South Africa swimmer to his right smiled warmly and patted Blaine on the back. Sebastian, who had swam on Blaine's left, scowled and took his competitor's hand begrudgingly.

A minute later, Blaine was out of the water and was immediately hounded by reporters. All of them wanted to know how he felt about his first win and his plans for the future. A short British woman managed to get a hold of him first.

"So tell us, Blaine, how does it feel to have finally won a medal?" She shoved the microphone at the athlete and looked at him expectantly.

"It's um…definitely unreal. I'm still a bit shocked, to tell you the truth. It's certainly a great feeling though, after all of this work." Blaine looked a bit overwhelmed as he spoke to the reporter, but a huge smile was plastered on his face.

"You were definitely moving pretty fast, but for a second there it looked as if your teammate was going to overtake you." The journalist looked at him, expecting a comment.

"Honestly, I didn't even notice Sebastian. I was just swimming, doing my best, and I was just fast enough to beat him."

"Wonderful!" the woman beamed. "So, once you're finished here, what are your plans for the future?"

"Well… I assume you mean my career. Truthfully, I don't know where I'm headed from here. I may come back in 2016, but who knows? What I do know is that I could definitely use a cup of coffee."

* * *

Wait. Coffee? Does that mean…? Kurt looked up from where he was wiping down the counter and back at the television. After seeing Blaine win, he had gotten back to work and was half-listening to the interview that was being broadcast live.

Blaine had said coffee. He had invited Blaine to come back for coffee after he was done competing for the games. Did that mean he was planning on coming here?

Kurt certainly did not expect that Blaine would take up his offer. Blaine had been voted hottest Olympic athlete by multiple magazines, people all over the world were in love with him, and now he was a champion. Kurt was just… Kurt.

He had played it cool when Blaine had walked into his shop that morning, pretending he didn't recognize him. Of course he'd known who Blaine was. Everyone did.

Kurt felt a tiny ray of hope begin to grow inside of him. Maybe, possibly, Blaine would stop by again.

* * *

One week later, Kurt woke up nervously. Yesterday had been Blaine's last event, and of course Kurt had watched every second of it. The swimmer had won silver, beaten squarely by an underdog from Australia.

That hadn't done anything to dampen the smile on his face, though. Blaine was ecstatic and stood on the podium with pride.

So now it was the day after, and Kurt was trying his best not to get his hopes up. He showered, got dressed, and made his way over to open up shop. It was five in the morning, and the sky was still relatively dark. There weren't too many people on the street, at least compared to the crowds that occupied the area during the day.

As he neared the door, he looked down into his bag and fumbled for his keys. He was so preoccupied that he hadn't noticed the man sitting on one of the chairs outside the entrance.

Kurt looked up, and started a little once he caught sight of him. While he found it difficult to make out the man's features in the dark, he saw the broad shoulders and unmistakable mop of curly hair.

"There you are," said Blaine. "I've been waiting for you forever."

* * *

Ten minutes later, the two were chatting hesitantly as Kurt set up shop for the day and Blaine drank his first coffee in months. Apparently, Blaine had been out late that night celebrating with his teammates. Around three in the morning, when the rest of them decided to head back, Blaine had walked over to the shop and was patiently waiting for it to open.

Blaine's eyes followed Kurt around the room, never once straying away. Kurt, well he was trying his best to not make a fool of himself in front of Blaine.

Soon however, the tension slipped away, and conversation flowed easily. Every once in a while, a customer would walk in and they would be interrupted. Each time, Kurt would pause the discussion, take care of the customer, and then return his full attention to Blaine.

They spoke about anything and everything. Their families, friends, homes. From Blaine's training schedule to Kurt's story about how he acquired his shop, no detail was spared.

Blaine stayed in the shop until midday. When Kurt noticed that he was falling asleep at the table, he packed up a sandwich and told him to get to bed.

"But I don't want to," Blaine said, his speech slightly slurred from exhaustion. "I like talking to you."

Kurt grinned. He had to stop himself from telling Blaine that he could stay.

"No. You should sleep. It's been way over twenty-four hours since the last time you were sleeping." Kurt shoved the package of food into Blaine's hands and led him to the door.

Blaine yawned. "Mkay. I'll come back tomorrow then?"

"Sure, I would love that," Kurt said earnestly.

Blaine smiled and looked upwards at Kurt through his long eyelashes. He was gorgeous.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Blaine murmured, and glanced one last time at Kurt before walking back to the village.

"Tomorrow," Kurt breathed after him.

* * *

**{A/N: Thank you to my temporary beta, Olivia. Her tumblr URL crissme-chriscolfer for anyone interested.}**


	3. I Know Exactly What I'm Getting Into

For the hundredth time that day, Kurt glanced at the clock. The majority of the day had come and gone, and Blaine still hadn't shown up to see him. Around ten in the morning, Kurt had become slightly nervous. After the lunch time rush, he'd lost the slight skip in his step that defined him. Now it was late afternoon, and only a few stragglers were coming into The Espresso Room to order a drink.

Kurt took care of their orders automatically. Meanwhile, all he could think about was Blaine; he wondered if he had done anything that was keeping him from wanting to return. After helping out the customers that he had, Kurt began to clean up. He wiped down counters and swept the floor. He took his time, just in case Blaine decided to show up.

* * *

After cleaning the glass pastry for the third time, Kurt finally gave up. It was nearly an hour after closing time, and he had given up the hope that Blaine would come to visit that day. He sighed and stood up from where he was squatting on the floor. He rolled the knots out of his shoulders and stretched a bit before taking the washrag to the back room.

There, he sorted out a few stray cups and wrote down the ingredients he would need to buy on his way home for the next day's pastries. As he scribbled down a few items—_vanilla, lemons, heavy cream—_he heard someone enter though the front.

He let out a small puff of air. He was fully prepared for a wanderer who hadn't bothered to check the hours of operation on the front of the door. Kurt stepped out from the back.

"I'm sorry, but we're—_oh_." There was no mistaking the short, lean build of the swimmer. He looked different though. He wasn't wearing the jeans and ratty shirt like the day before, or the gym shorts like the day of his meet. And Blaine _definitely_ wasn't wearing the Speedo that Kurt had spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at while watching Blaine compete on TV.

In fact, Blaine looked more put together than the majority of men who passed though Kurt's shop every day. He wore navy capri pants that let Kurt see his ankles, as well as a simple white collared shirt, which was made more interesting by a pair of grey suspenders. His hair was tamed with gel, though a bit too much for Kurt's tastes. It was nothing like the unruly mess Kurt had seen before.

Kurt stammered out a hello and held out his hand to greet Blaine. The shorter man smiled a little and took Kurt's hand. Then, before the other man could react, Blaine pulled Kurt to him and gave him a tight hug.

Kurt was a bit taken aback, but let himself fall into the hug. Blaine smelled faintly of chlorine, and Kurt assumed it was a side effect of spending his entire life in pools. After a moment, Blaine pulled away and looked up at Kurt.

"I'm so sorry. I meant to come as soon as I woke up, but then I got dragged out by my roommate, Wes. He was convinced that we had to go 'see the city' on our last full day and we got lost and it was just a mess."

"Your last day?"

"Well, yes. The US team is leaving tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," Kurt's eyes dropped. _Of course_ they were leaving. They had to go home at some point. Somehow, Kurt had managed to forget this key piece of information.

"Hey," Blaine lifted Kurt's chin until he was looking up again. "Don't worry about tomorrow. I know it's late, but maybe I can take you somewhere?"

Kurt chuckled quietly. "Maybe I should be the one to take _you_ somewhere, considering you already managed to get lost once today."

Blaine feigned offense, "I see. I'm not British enough for you. I don't know the streets of London well enough, or drink tea every afternoon, or talk with an accent…"

"Well, to me, you're the one with the accent so you can throw that reasoning out."

"Point taken. So where are we going?" Blaine tilted his head to the side in question.

"Surprise," Kurt responded as he led Blaine out the door.

* * *

The next morning, Blaine stopped by Kurt's store before he left. He had his baggage with him and he looked somewhat rumpled, as if he hadn't had time to properly wash and dress that morning.

Kurt saw him enter, and immediately poured a large cup of coffee for Blaine. He set it down in front of the man with a muffin that he'd made that morning.

"Thank you," Blaine said with gratitude.

"For what? Coffee? My pleasure."

"For that, and for being here. For the past few years of my life, all that I've done is train. I'd forgotten what a real conversation was like until you gave me one two days ago." Blaine fiddled with the lip of his coffee cup and took a breath. "It reminded me that this wasn't exactly what I wanted in life."

"You didn't want to swim?"

"No, I love swimming. It's my passion, but I didn't want to do it like this. The non-stop competition, the crowd pleasing, the never ending parade of interviewers and photo shoots. It's all a bit too much."

Kurt furrowed his brows. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What?" Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"What are you going to do about the fact that you hate what you do?"

"Uhm… I hadn't thought of that. I think I've kind of locked myself into this job."

"You aren't locked anywhere until you decide that you don't want to leave."

At that moment, a large group walked in, and Kurt left Blaine at his table to attend to them. Blaine looked around him. _Maybe, just maybe._

Before he could think twice, Blaine pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Wes.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Wes… It's Blaine"

"Where are you?" the voice on the other line hissed, "Coach is about to kill someone because we are all waiting at the airport for you."

"I'm not coming." Blaine said firmly. "I'm going to stay here, figure something out. I'm retiring. Tell Coach that I'll call him in a few days to figure everything out. As of now, though, I am officially retired."

"Blaine! Are you crazy? Don't answer that, of course you are. You can't leave now! You're in the prime of your career!" Blaine could hear voices on the other end as his teammates figured out what Wes was speaking to Blaine about.

He sighed a bit. "No Wes, I'm staying. End of story. I'll call you when you guys land."

"I hope you know what you are getting yourself into." Wes replied.

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who was still busy at the counter. For a moment he could see a possible future. One where he shared his life with Kurt, the man that had managed to make him fall head over heels in the space of two days and a few cups of coffee. He could see himself a year from now, teaching swim lessons to aspiring athletes in London, coming here every morning and evening to see Kurt. He could see everything that would possibly make him happy. A simple life with a simple love. He made eye contact with Kurt behind the counter, and saw him more clearly than he ever had before. He felt something in his chest that told him this was it. Now all he needed to do was trust.

"I know exactly what I'm getting into."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much if you kept reading up until this point! I appreciate the support! Unfortunately, this is the last part because I need to focus on my other projects at the moment and I don't want to drag this AU Friday all the way though the week. The response to these drabbles is simply wonderful and I couldn't ask for anything more.**

**There is a possibility of an Epilogue because I'm a sucker for daddy!klaine (hint hint)**

**I appreciate any reviews you guys have to offer! I'm always looking for ways to improve.**

**Blaine's outfit was inspired partially by this picture: blaineandersonscloset{.}tumblr{.}com/post/29294845199**


	4. Epilogue

**{YAY EPILOGUE! I got carried away with this because I am in love with Daddy!Klaine. Reviews Welcome!}**

* * *

"Okay, now make sure you pull all the way through when you take a stroke, then at the very end, snap your hand back and out." Blaine demonstrated the pull to a group of teenagers, all who watched him carefully.

* * *

Ever since his professional career ended abruptly in 2012, Blaine had created a life in the UK. Within a few months after his announced retirement, he was offered a job as a coach at a well known aquatic center in the city. He snapped up the job immediately.

A couple years later he opened his own pool and was now coaching the most talented swimmers in the area. He'd hired a few of his old teammates in the past few years, as well as many other talented swimmers and coaches. In a few years time, Blaine's center would become _the_ place for aspiring Olympiads. Blaine attributed its existence to Kurt. It never would have become a reality if it wasn't for Kurt's insistence.

Kurt. That was another thing altogether. While Blaine had left swimming for the man, it wasn't as if they could immediately start living together. However, every morning, without fail, Blaine would come into The Espresso Room for his morning coffee, and to visit Kurt. Kurt would make sure to have Blaine's cup ready each morning just a few minutes before hand.

Gradually, Blaine began to stay longer, and then they began to meet outside of each other's work hours. Kurt would take Blaine to all of his favorite places in the city, and Blaine fell in love with the sights and sounds of London. Even better, he fell even further in love with Kurt.

Then there was that time that Kurt kissed him: suddenly, and without warning. It wasn't romantic in the traditional sense of the word. It happened late one evening as they were about to go their separate ways; Blaine to the small apartment he had found when he first decided to stay in London, and Kurt to his house. The stars weren't visible in the night sky, and they weren't standing in a pool of light from a street lamp. There was no background music or beautiful body of water beside them, but it was perfect in every way. Soft. Tentative. Full of love.

At that moment Blaine Anderson knew he was going to marry Kurt Hummel.

And he did. Two years later, on the anniversary of the day they first met, Blaine knelt down in front of Kurt and offered him a ring and his heart. They were married within the year.

Seven years later, nothing could have been better.

* * *

"Coach?" one of the swimmers asked, "what interval are we doing these on?"

"I think we'll go on the minute. Don't push this set, focus on the technique."

Blaine sat on his stool and watched the swimmers. His eyes kept wandering over to the smaller pool on the other side of the deck. There, his son six year old son, Nathan, was taking his first swimming lesson with one of the best instructors at the aquatic center. Blaine had wanted to teach him by himself, but Nathan was adamant about going through the process like everyone else. Starting with level one, and moving up until he was in his dad's group.

Blaine could see Nathan blowing bubbles in the water and trying to float on his back. Eventually, he focused back on his group and finished up the practice.

* * *

"Daddy! Daddy! Look!" Nathan took a deep breath and went underwater. He resurfaced about five feet from where he had gone under.

"Did you see that? I swam!"

Blaine laughed from the side of the pool and motioned for him to come closer to the edge. "I did, you are going to be quite the little swimmer."

Nathan made his way over to Blaine, and was lifted out of the water. Blaine swung him up and gave him a hug while he was still dripping wet. The little boy squirmed in his dad's arms.

"Daaaad, put me down." He whined.

Chuckling, Blaine set him down and handed him a towel. "Come on, dry off. I think you deserve a treat. Maybe…hot chocolate?"

A grin broke out on Nathan's face and he got dressed as fast as possible. Blaine watched him bounce around the pool deck. When he and Kurt had first decided they wanted a surrogate child, they couldn't agree as to who should be the biological father. Blaine wanted Kurt to have the honor, but Kurt insisted that Blaine's gene pool was more talented. Blaine had scoffed at this, because in his mind, Kurt was the perfect human being.

After months of discussion, Kurt finally caved. Nathan looked so much like his dad. His eyes were the same shade of blue, and his nose was the same distinct shape as Kurt's. Somehow, though, Nathan had picked up Blaine's sense of excitement. It was something Blaine had forgotten he had while he spent his years training heavily for his career. Once he stepped away from the pressure and began to teach, it all came back.

Minutes later, Nathan and Blaine were heading out. The little boy could hardly stop talking about his first lesson. Of course he'd been in the water before, but now he was going to be "just like his daddy" and learn how to swim just as fast as he did. Blaine smiled fondly at the little boy while the two walked down the street.

After Nathan finally quieted down, Blaine spoke up. "You know what Nate? I think— that if you want to— you can swim even _faster_ than me."

Nathan's eyes widened, "Really? But you're the fastest in the world."

"I'm only the fastest until someone beats me," Blaine responded. Nathan grew silent as he thought about that. Blaine glanced down, "that is, only if you want to. I won't make force you to do it if you want t do something else."

"Nope," Nathan replied, "I want to swim fast."

"Then you will." Blaine scooped up Nathan, and held him as they crossed the street. "We're going to stop by Nana's house and pick up Macy real quick, okay?"

"Kay," Nathan said, resting his head on Blaine's shoulder.

When Blaine finally arrived at his mother-in-laws house, Nathan was sound asleep. He knocked gently and greeted Carole. He stepped inside, and set Nathan down on the couch as Carole brought Macy over. She was only eight months old, and she spent weekday afternoons with Carole when Blaine was coaching.

Blaine picked her up and started cooing at the little girl, "look at you, every time I see you, you just get more beautiful. Oh yes you do. Aren't you the prettiest in the world?" She grabbed his finger as he leaned down to kiss her on the nose. She smiled up at him and Blaine felt his heart melt a little.

She was, of course, the second child. This time around Kurt had convinced Blaine to be the biological father, and Macy had been the result. Her hair wasn't quite as curly as Blaine's, and her skin was a few shades darker. The only clear indication of her relation to Blaine was the color of her eyes that changed from a honey brown to a muted green with the lighting.

He picked up the carrier from where it rested near the entrance. "Thank you Carole, as usual," he said as he placed Macy inside. He set it down, kissed the top of her head and gave her a hug. "I appreciate it."

"It's no trouble at all, I love spending time with my grandkids," Carole beamed.

Blaine lifted Nathan back up and shifted him to one hip. He then grabbed the handle of Macy's carrier, and nodded at the older woman. "I'll see you Monday afternoon."

"Bye sweetie, send Kurt my love!" She waved from the doorstep.

"Will do!" Blaine called over his shoulder, and made his way down the street.

* * *

Soon, Nathan woke up from his short nap, and Blaine put him down next to him. They walked in silence with the occasional gurgle coming from Macy. She was wide awake and staring at anything that moved.

Ten minutes later, the trio arrived at a bright red door. Blaine opened it and ushered Nathan inside, and then walking in after him. The place was full. The Espresso Room had been featured in a traveler's magazine the year before, and tourists now seemed to flock to the place en masse. Kurt had hired three people to work alongside him, but even that wasn't enough some days.

Blaine made eye contact with Kurt and smiled warmly. Kurt returned the expression, before hurrying back to finish the latest order. Blaine had intended to sit down at a table and wait for a lull in the flow of customers, but Nathan wasn't having any of that.

"Dad! Dad! Guess what I did today?" Nathan scurried behind the counter and grabbed onto one of Kurt's legs. Kurt looked down and was trying to decide what he should do with his son when Blaine called him back.

"Nathan Hummel you get back here this instant." Blaine said sternly. Nathan pouted a little, but walked back around.

"Honestly Blaine, he wasn't bothering me."

"Come on now, we have to set some sort of boundaries."

Kurt rolled his eyes and grabbed an empty cup. He poured the drink and placed it on the counter for the customer, and then gestured to one of his employees to take his spot. He grabbed Blaine's medium drip off the counter, and got a cup of hot chocolate for Nathan.

"Nothing for you?" Blaine asked as he took the coffee from Kurt.

"Nope, already had mine today." Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine on the cheek. "Now where can I find my kids?" Kurt pretended to overlook Nathan, searching around the table. "I can't see them anywhere!"

"Dad! I'm right here!" Nathan waved his hands over his head in an attempt to get his attention.

"What? Oh! Hey there!" Kurt kissed him on the head, ruffled his hair, and handed him his chocolate. "How was your first day of swimming?"

"It was awesome!" Nathan exclaimed. He gestured a bit too enthusiastically and spilled a little of his drink on the table. Kurt chuckled and pulled a rag from his back pocket to wipe up the mess.

"How far did you swim?"

"He went super far, a whole five feet," Blaine added with pride.

"I don't believe it. Maybe I'll have to come next week and see for myself."

"Can you?" Nathan looked up hopefully.

"Yeah, I think I can take an afternoon off to visit you guys." Kurt looked over at Blaine, who was a little ruffled from the walk over. Kurt fixed the collar on his husband's shirt, and then looked to the ground near Blaine's feet where Macy sat in her carrier.

She'd been entranced by a picture on the wall for the past couple minutes, but once she saw Kurt's familiar figure leaning down, she began to coo. Kurt unfastened the belt, and picked her up. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, and refused to let go.

Kurt made a face as he gently pulled her hand down. "Hi Macy, how's my perfect princess?" She responded by biting his nose, which was way too close to her mouth in the first place. He scrunched up his face and pulled back. He wiped away the moisture from his nose while Blaine laughed from his chair.

"Aww, look Dad," Blaine said, the corners of his eyes still crinkling, "she's teething."

"It'd be great if she didn't decide to teethe on my face though," Kurt responded. However, he was unable to keep the fondness from his voice.

* * *

"He's asleep," Kurt whispered as he entered the bedroom. Blaine was sitting on his side of the bed, helping Macy with her bottle. She gripped the sides tight, but still needed Blaine's help to keep it upright.

"Great," Blaine yawned. Soon, the little girl was finished with the bottle, and her eyes began to droop. Blaine hummed softly and rocked a little as he waited for her to fall asleep. He leaned back on the head board, and succeeded in falling asleep only moments after Macy drifted off herself.

Kurt tried to pick up Macy to put her in her crib, but Blaine tensed. He mumbled something incoherent and shifted a little.

"Shhh…it's just me. I'm going to put her in her bed." Blaine relaxed, and Kurt lifted Macy up. He carried her to the adjacent room and set her down on her back. He returned to see that Blaine had reallocated to his side.

Once Blaine, though half opened eyes, saw Kurt, he reached out his hands like a needy child. "Come love me," he half whined and made grabbing gestures with his hands.

"Anything for you," Kurt responded. He came closer and let Blaine pull him onto the bed. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt and set his chin on his shoulder. Kurt adjusted himself so that the two of them were in a more comfortable position and locked their legs together. They fit perfectly, as if their bodies were made for each other.

"I love you, Kurt," Blaine murmured. He snuggled his face against Kurt's neck, fully aware that he was scratching him with the day's stubble.

"I love you too Blaine," Kurt breathed. He took one of the hands Blaine held him with and brought it to his lips. He pressed a kiss onto his husband's knuckles, and then proceeded to lace his fingers with Blaine's.

"Good night"

"G'night."

* * *

**{Hope you loved the fluff! I appreciate reviews as usual, constructive criticism only makes people better writers.}**


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